The office lights flickered for the third time that night. A buzzing hum from the old tube light in the corner echoed in the otherwise dead silence of the floor.
At the far end, buried under towers of paperwork, a lone figure tapped away on his keyboard.
Riku Sakamoto, thirty-two, assistant project lead in a company that forgot humans needed sleep, food, or weekends.
He blinked slowly, eyes dry from staring at the monitor for fifteen hours straight. His wrist ached. His back screamed mutiny. His stomach had given up negotiating four hours ago.
And still, the cursor blinked.
Just one more spreadsheet. Then I can go home. Or die. Either's fine.
He leaned back with a sigh, cracked his knuckles, and opened the last report. His brain was mush. His fingers were stiff.
Then the screen went black.
So did the lights.
And then, so did everything else.
He woke to the sound of birds.
Not the usual angry crows bickering over a trash can. This was different—gentle warbling, like a flute being played by nature itself. He opened his eyes slowly.
He was lying on soft grass, beneath a blue sky painted with white wisps of cloud. Sunlight streamed through the canopy of trees, dappling his robe.
His robe?
Gone were his wrinkled slacks and sweat-stained dress shirt. Instead, he wore a light, breathable robe of forest green and walnut brown—soft to the touch, clean as new cotton, and somehow perfectly tailored.
"…Did I get isekai'd?"
Ding.
[System Initialization Complete.]
Welcome, Player Riku.You are now logged in as: The Grand Maximus (Lv. 9999, All Classes Unlocked).
This is the world of EverRealm. Enjoy your eternal stay.
Riku's jaw slackened.
He recognized this UI. The blue pop-up box, the glowing text, the whimsical font.
EverRealm Online.
The MMORPG he had sunk over two thousand hours into during college. The one that died with a whimper a year ago. And his character… "The Grand Maximus"—a walking apocalypse with every class maxed out—was a meme in the community.
It so happened that when everyone, including the Devs, had given up on the game, Riku had tirelessly grinded and maxed out every class in the game, ultimately becoming the feared Grand Maximus.
And now he was that character.
"…This can't be real. I must've snapped at the office and ended up in a coma. Yeah. Coma dream."
A second ding.
[Peaceful Life System Activated.]"
You've worked too hard in your past life. Time to rest, recover, and help others."
For every act of goodwill, modern comforts will be bestowed. Starting Bonus Unlocked: "Work-Life Rebalance Gift."
A soft jingle played, and with a shimmer of light, a small pouch floated gently from the sky and landed in his lap.
Riku opened it.
Inside was a steaming cup of matcha in an elegant porcelain mug, and a plump mochi bun nestled in a bamboo leaf.
The aroma hit him instantly. Warm, earthy matcha with a floral hint of roasted rice. It was the kind of scent that made you close your eyes and sigh without realizing. The mochi—glazed with a light dusting of kinako powder—released a nutty sweetness that tickled his senses.
"…This smells better than anything I've ever had. And I live next to a Starbucks."
He took a cautious sip.
It was heaven in liquid form. The kind of perfect bitterness and warmth that wrapped around your soul like a fuzzy blanket. Not too hot, not too mild—just right.
He bit into the mochi. Soft, pillowy, and just the right amount of chew. The red bean filling was smooth and subtly sweet, melting on his tongue like a sigh of relief.
He groaned.
Not from pain—but from the absence of it. No aching wrist. No back pain. No knots in his shoulders. His whole body felt ten years younger.
Okay. Coma dream or not, this is the best thing that's happened to me in forever.
Another ding.
[+1 Goodwill]
Helping yourself counts too, you know.
One-time reward: Premium Soft Futon Mattress (Modern Edition).
There was a pop of light behind him.
Riku turned and gasped.
A futon mattress lay neatly rolled beside a folded blanket. It looked impossibly fluffy—like a luxury hotel bed had been stuffed into a roll. The cotton was snow-white, the edges lined with navy blue embroidery. He could tell just by looking at it: no spring bed, no corporate nap pod, not even a five-star ryokan could compare.
He touched it. His fingers sank in like the mattress was made of memory foam and clouds.
"…I've slept on a floor for five years," he muttered. "And this… this is the dream."
He stood up, took another sip of matcha, and turned to look around.
Just over a small rise in the forest, smoke curled lazily from a chimney.
A village.
Probably the starter zone.
He started walking slowly, sipping his drink.
The village was exactly what a fantasy MMO village should be: wooden houses, a stone well, and curious eyes peeking from behind wooden shutters. Villagers wore simple tunics and mud-covered boots. Chickens clucked. A cow mooed.
Riku took a deep breath. The air smelled like wildflowers, baked bread, and clean wind.
At the edge of the road, an old man struggled to carry a burlap sack of grain.
Riku sighed.
"Right. Here we go."
He walked over and effortlessly lifted the sack with one hand.
"Let me help you."
The old man blinked. "Oh… thank you, young man. No one offers help these days."
[+1 Goodwill]
You have received: Deluxe Tea Kettle Set.
A box materialized beside his feet, with a glossy wooden lid and an engraved lotus symbol.
Riku smiled faintly.
Alright. This system was the best of them all. Who would want a system that constantly forced you to kill villains, chase skirts, or save worlds?
He glanced up at the village ahead, then back at the clear blue sky.
"…If this is my afterlife, I'm not complaining. Time to say goodbye to overwork and hello to a peaceful new life."